


Moving On

by lothering



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Chorus Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Moving On, Multi, Post-Project Freelancer, Very brief mention of Tuckington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lothering/pseuds/lothering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Sunday, Wash visits their graves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> It's worth nothing that I listened to 'I'm Moving On' by Rascal Flatts while writing this. Give it a listen, if you will.

Their bodies never made it back home. As such, the two graves, side by side, were completely empty. Despite this, David visited them every Sunday, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Schedules were moved to accommodate his visits, interviews respectfully requested for a time later in the day, parties either skipped or attended to slightly later than the requested arrival time. It wasn't to say that none of that was important - it all was, in one way or another - but this was more important. This was his last connection to the two men he had loved more than he could describe. This was repentance for not being able to save either of them.

They were Alexander Bocharov and Shaun Hannigan, otherwise known by their codenames: Agent North Dakota and Agent York.

David - Wash, now, after Project Freelancer recreated him - brought with him every Sunday a brown paper lunch bag filled with gummy worms (York's favourite) and a grilled tuna sandwich (North's favourite, despite the looks of disgust York always gave him when he cooked on up during their few shore leaves together). Other visitors to the cemetery gave the aging blond strange looks as he sat between the two headstones, casually leaning on one or the other while he swallowed down the tuna and confectionery combo. He was sure York's ghost would be gagging and crying foul about ruining the sanctity of the delicious gummy treat if he had been there to see his boyfriend devouring it. Later, Wash would have a terrible stomach ache, but for now the horrendous snack brought him closer to lovers he lost so many years ago.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

Sometimes, Wash would be at cemetery for hours, either idly informing the empty graves of his day-to-day life, or simply sitting quietly on the ground, gazing up through the elm trees that sheltered the numerous graves surrounding him. On other occasions, the weary veteran would stay just long enough to eat his tuna-candy sandwich, holding back a gag or two, before quietly telling the empty graves how much he missed the men they were intended for, leaving as quietly as he had come.

He never said 'goodbye'. Goodbyes were a finality. An ending. Wash wasn't ready to let go.

Very rarely, Carolina would come along. She would scoff at Wash's offer of half of the awful seafood and candy sandwich, and together they would sit quietly amongst the tombstones, once in a while sharing a memory of York and North that would either make them laugh uncontrollably, smile affectionately, or wipe away tears that neither would later acknowledge shedding. It was cathartic having her with him, easing the burden of sorrow from his shoulders and sharing it with someone else. Easing the pain as the years drifted by.

Time passed, as it does. And one day, Wash returned to the cemetery without his sandwich.

He was happy, he said. Not that he hadn't been since returning to Earth, but this was a different sort of happiness. One he hadn't felt since the last time he had laid spread out between North and York's naked bodies. Not since he had last kissed their lips, exchanged tender words, moaned their names in exaltation. He was dating again.

"You'd like him." Wash grinned as he held his chin in his palms, elbows digging into his knees. "I talk about Tucker all the time, mostly complaining of course, but he's...sweet. When he wants to be, at least. I think this could be good. I hope it is."

As he stood up, brushing dirt from the seat of his jeans, Wash leaned down and kissed the tops of the headstones, as he had done countless times in the years he had been visiting them. "I won't say it, you know. Because for as long as I remember you, it won't be the end. It's taken so long, but I'm moving on now. It's...it's time for me to move forward."

Clearing his throat, Wash gave the headstones a long glance before turning away.

"I love you guys so much. Thank you for what you gave me."

The sun was shining when Wash left the cemetery that day.


End file.
